


Spacekru Shorts

by anorak188



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: i just feel so robbed of flashbacks, it's spacekru!, or rather what should've happened, someone needed to fill in what happened in those six years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:41:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anorak188/pseuds/anorak188
Summary: A collection of short stories of events I imagine (or hope) happened during those six years on the Ring.





	1. One

Bellamy doesn’t sleep the first night on the Ring. Or the second.

By the third night he’s slipping into delirium.

He’s sick and tired of lying in his empty room. It’s late – he only knows by the circadian lights now – and he’s still restless. His room has a window, but it’s still facing the blank emptiness of space. Stars twinkle back at him almost tauntingly. He remembers how she saved him from Dax. He remembers how she asked him if he wished on shooting stars. He remembers just four short days ago, he crashed the rover because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. So many things with her happened under the view of the stars. He’s sick of seeing them.

He stumbles into the hallway looking for a different view. He knows there are windows here and there all along the Ring and at this point he doesn’t care where he’s at, he just wants to be close to her. He finds an opening along the hallway with a big window, the image in it a simmering view of Earth. Earth had always been green as long as he’d been alive. But now it looked brown and hot and painful as Praimfaya ravaged the planet.

It looked awful from 250 miles up. He couldn’t imagine how Clarke was feeling down there.

His throat tightens as his head argues with his heart. “ _There’s no way nightblood was enough to survive that_ ,” his head says. “ _I wouldn’t care to live if I believed that_ ,” his heart replies.

His head knocks pathetically against the glass.

His eyes blink open dryly. He’s not sure if he’s dozed off or just losing his mind from not sleeping.

Murphy’s voice drifts down from the hallway. “Raven, are you – oh god.”

He climbs out of his window seat to see what’s going on. One look at the blood smeared on the floor, the walls, on Raven, on Murphy, and he wakes up in seconds. “What’s going on?”

“I fell,” Raven says through gritted teeth. “My brace locked up and snapped as I fell on it.”

Murphy’s hands hold pressure on her thigh to slow the bleeding. “Let me get a look at that.” Bellamy crouches next to Murphy, a hand on his shoulder, silently saying it’s alright, we’ll take care of her. Murphy pulls his hands back slowly and it’s much, much worse than Bellamy thought. A jagged piece of the brace is lodged in her thigh.

Bellamy takes a shaky breath, his first thought being, _go get Clarke_ and the second thought being the realization that she’s not there anymore. It’s been three days and he’s already overwhelmed without her. “It’s going to be okay, Raven." He turns to Murphy. "Go wake up the others. Have Harper and Monty get things ready in Med Bay and tell Echo and Emori to bring a stretcher.” He takes over holding pressure on her thigh. “Now, Murphy.”

Just two doors down from Raven’s room is Murphy and Emori’s, which is Murphy's first stop. Emori comes out, still sleepy and her hair messy as Murphy takes off to Monty and Harper’s room, which is the next closest. Once Emori realizes what’s going on and how severe the situation is, she freezes.

“Emori, please. I need that stretcher,” Bellamy begs.

She disappears down the hallway, leaving Raven and Bellamy alone in the dimly lit hall.

“You got this,” Raven says through gritted teeth.

Bellamy looks down at her, pulling on a smile for her sake. “Of course you do. You’re Raven fucking Reyes.”

“I’m not talking to me, dumbass,” Raven says, no malice in her voice despite the insult. “I’m telling you: You’ve got this.”

He shakes his head, unsure of what to say. “Raven, I -.”

“I know you’re mourning her. I know how much she meant to you. She was the one you found yourself leaning on when you didn’t know what to do next. And she leaned on you, too. You made each other better leaders, better people. But Bellamy,” Raven puts her hand over his. “We need you. We won't survive up here without you.”

Murphy, Echo, and Emori come rushing back, a stretcher between them. Echo and Emori lay the stretcher on the ground next to Raven. Bellamy takes a breath, composing himself as Raven’s words sink in. “Murphy,” he orders, “grab her shoulders. Emori, get on the other side at her waist. Echo, lift her feet on my count.” He looks at Echo firmly. “Do not let her legs move.” Everyone takes their places and looks at Bellamy expectantly, waiting for his command. Raven’s right. They’re still looking to him to lead them.

“One, two, three.”

In one swift motion, they transfer Raven to the stretcher while Bellamy keeps his grip on her leg, both to slow the flow of blood and to prevent the broken brace from shifting in her leg and causing more damage.

Monty and Harper are waiting for them when they get to med bay. Harper has gathered together clean towels and bandages on a tray while Monty digs around in the cabinet.

Harper rushes to Raven’s side. “What happened?”

Raven’s eyes blink slowly, unfocused. “I got shot.”

Harper furrows her brow. “What? I didn’t hear anything.”

“What?” Murphy echoes. “No, Raven, you fell. Remember? I saw it. No one shot you.”

“You did,” she trails, her eyes half closed. “You shot me.”

Murphy winces.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Bellamy says. “Her brace is lodged in her leg from the fall.”

Monty puts a pack of sutures on the table. “She’s going to need stitches.”

“Who’s good at sewing?” Emori asks.

The room is silent.

Someone has to do it. He remembers the late nights when watched his mother repair the holes in clothing on the Ark. He’s never tried sewing himself, but if someone doesn’t do something soon, they’re going to lose their only chance of getting back down to the ground. “I’ll do it. Get me a tourniquet.”

Monty ties the tourniquet around Raven’s thigh. “You’ve done this before?”

Bellamy wipes his shaking hands on a towel. “No. But my mom was a seamstress.”

“Wait, so you’ve never even sewn fabric, and now you’re going to sew Raven?”

Bellamy threads the needle. “Would you rather take over, Murphy?” Murphy sighs. “That’s what I thought.” He turns to Harper. “Get a syringe and some saline ready to wash this out. We can’t afford for her to get an infection up here without antibiotics.”

Bellamy unlatches Raven’s brace and steels himself. “Alright. Hold her foot up so her leg is just off the bed. I’m going to pull this brace out and off.” Bellamy squeezes his hands into fists, trying to calm his nerves. “And we’re just going to hope it’s not in there too deep.”

Pulling the brace out is harder than it looked. It stirs Raven out of her lethargy and makes her cry out and thrash, so Harper and Murphy hold her arms and shoulders down while Echo and Emori force her legs still. Monty pours saline over the wound to wash it out and gently pats it dry with a clean towel. When Bellamy puts the needle in Raven’s screaming turns to crying, which is somehow worse to listen to. He tries to just block it out and focus on the task at hand, but it’s so hard not to feel her pain every time he dips the needle into her skin. He doesn’t know how Clarke does it.

After nine stitches he ties the thread off and clips the end. He drops the needle and scissors on the tray and collapses onto a stool by the counter, trying to breathe. He didn’t realize how long he’d been holding his breath. “I think that’s it.”

Raven is visibly much more relaxed, to the point she keeps falling asleep - something that makes Bellamy worry. Harper wraps her thigh in soft white bandages. Murphy picks up her broken, bloody brace, turning it over in his hands. “She’s not going to be able to walk by herself.”

“We’ll take turns helping her.” Harper offers. “I’m afraid to leave her alone after she’s lost so much blood.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Bellamy volunteers, dragging himself off the stool into a standing position. Now that the immediate threat to Raven’s life had ended, his three days without sleep were catching up to him.

“No,” Murphy says, putting the brace back. “I will. I’m the one who caused her to have to have the damn thing in the first place.”

“Murphy,” Bellamy starts.

“Let’s just get her back to bed,” he says.

They clean the stretcher up and use it carry her back to her room. Harper turns down the covers and tucks Raven in like a mother would. Just outside the door, smears of her blood are visible on the floor. “I’m going to go help the others clean up.” As she turns to leave, she puts her hand on his arm. “You did good, Bellamy.”

He swallows, nodding.

Murphy pulls up a chair to the edge of Raven’s bed, his feet propped up on the mattress. He sits down with her brace and starts to wipe it down with a soapy wet cloth, cleaning in every nook and cranny and hinge, completely ignoring Bellamy's presence.

“Murphy, this isn’t your fault.”

Murphy’s hands still. He looks at Raven, her light snores the only sound in the room, starlight making her ashen skin look even paler. She’s snuggled down in the covers, chilling from the loss of blood, her closed eyes the only thing visible above the blanket. They’d have given her transfusion from one of them, but there was no way to know her blood type, nor theirs, and it wasn’t a chance they were willing to take. It’d make her recovery longer, but at least she would recover. “I shot her, Bellamy.” He tilts his head, still scrubbing. “I shot her, I gave her the nerve damage, which made her need the brace, which locked up and made her fall, which then –,” he gestures to her sleeping form, “caused this. So, I beg to differ.”

“You’ve done a lot of awful things, Murphy.”

“Gee.” He switches out the wet cloth for a dry one. It doesn’t change the fact that the brace is still broken and unusable, but at least she won’t have to see it so bloody when she wakes up. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“So have I.” Bellamy crosses his arms, leaning against the bed frame. “Technically, this is my fault. I hung you so you hung me. You thought it was Octavia under the floor and was trying to hurt her in order to hurt me. Which you wouldn’t have done unless I unfairly hung you, so if there’s anyone to blame here, it’s me.”

He doesn’t say anything, just dries around a bolt again and again, long after it’s dry.

Bellamy claps his shoulder. “I’ll come back in a few hours to relieve you.”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I might just need to be a little destructive every night then.”  
> Raven weighs the proposition. “Well, I can’t just let the ship fall apart, now can I?”

               It’s impossible to ever know quite where to find him these days. Murphy had literally drawn a line on the floor dividing the Ring in two, daring anyone to cross it. Still yet, twice a day, someone had to cross his boundary and risk his wrath to give him something to eat. He could beat himself up all he wanted, but they weren’t just going to let him die.

               “Room service!” Raven announced as she crossed the line in the sand. Hopefully she’d find him and make sure he got his serving of algae, but if he really refused to come out, they had a designated area to leave it. When they’d come back a few hours later, it’d usually be empty.

               She wandered around his dimly lit half of the Ring – they couldn’t afford to light unused parts of the Ring, peeking in different rooms as she went. As she neared the midway point of his half, she found him playing some old song on a data pad that had recently gone missing from her workroom. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, dancing along to the music in front a window, completely unaware of her presence.

               She clears her throat. He doesn’t hear her or just ignores her. She tries again. “Murphy!”

               He turns around, his dancing slowing as he catches sight of her. “What do you want?”

               She holds up the silver metal bowl. “I’ve got some dinner. You’ll never guess what it is.”

               He takes the bowl out of her hand and downs its contents in one go, throwing the bowl at the wall when he’s finished and goes back to dancing.

               “What the hell, Murphy?” Raven scolds, picking up the bowl. “How hard would it have been to hand it back to me?”

               Emori’s voice comes on over the intercom. “Attention ladies, gentlemen, and Murphy: A solar storm has just been detected by the monitoring system with estimated X class flares. You know the drill. Get to a designated shelter.” There’s a pause before her voice comes back. “Oh, shit.” Raven hears a clatter over the intercom. “NOW.”

               “Come on,” Raven says, moving as fast as her leg will allow her. “There’s a shelter three doors down.”

               Murphy stays where he’s at, standing in front of the window. “You know, we’ve had a bunch of solar flares on the Ark, and I’ve never seen one them in person.”

               “They’re too far away for us to see, dumbass.” Raven grabs his arm, hauling him along with her down hall. “Do you think these shelters were built for fun?”

               “I think it might be an overreaction,” Murphy muses.

               Raven shoves him inside the shelter room and engages the automatic lock, trapping them inside until the Ring’s monitoring equipment deems solar radiation levels safe again. Raven crosses her arms. “Clarke didn’t sacrifice her life for you to die up here like this.”

               The room is about ten feet square with a tiny bathroom attached in the corner. There are shelves with about five days’ worth of MRE’s, a few blankets, as well as some basic hygiene necessities. There’s a bench lining each wall. Murphy sits down on the far wall’s bench, letting his blanket droop around his shoulders miserably. He looks up at her when she speaks, that infuriating look rising in his eyes again. “We’re all going to die up here if you don’t figure out the fuel problem. Two thousand, seventy-two days since Praimfaya. You’re nine months late.” He shrugs, leaning back. “I sure as hell won’t keep waiting around.”

               That hurts. It does. But she can play this game too. She sits down in front on him on the opposite bench and looks him in the eye, not backing down. “Maybe we’d already be home by now if I had six people helping me instead of five.”

               “Oh, this is my fault now, is it?”

               “Could be,” Raven muses.

               Murphy turns his head. “Maybe if A.L.I.E. was still in your head you’d be smart enough to figure it out.”

               “If A.L.I.E. was still in my head, I’d be dead and so would you.”

               “Can’t ever let me die on my own, can you?”

               “Careful what you wish for.”

               Murphy runs a hand over his face and is silent for a long time. Raven assumes she’s won and is silently gloating to herself. Eventually, he speaks again. “Do you want to know why I’ve never done anything?”

               She’s a little shocked to hear his voice again, but she’s not going to pass up an opportunity. “Please, enlighten me.”

               “I’ve been in survival mode since I was twelve years old and Jaha floated my parents for loving me. Surviving in the Sky Box, surviving on Earth, surviving in Becca’s bunker, surviving Praimfaya. I don’t know anything else, okay? I never had an apprenticeship, I never learned a trade, I never had a job.” He runs a hand through his hair and gestures at her. “All of you have these specific skills to contribute – Monty’s a farmer, Bellamy’s a leader, Emori’s your shadow. We’re at total peace here, and I can’t stand it.”

               Raven’s taken aback by his candor. She’s never thought of it like that. It was true, if you wanted to survive, you needed Murphy. But here, the only thing they were fighting against was the lack of fuel left in Becca’s pod, and as much as she loved the others, it was a problem that fell solely on her shoulders. Even if Murphy wanted to, he couldn’t help her make fuel appear out of thin air. Her heart can’t help but soften for him, for how he must’ve been beating himself up all this time – so much so he cut himself off from the rest of the group.

               “You’re not worthless, Murphy.” His face scrunches up and he shakes his head, hiding his full expression from her. Raven stands up and joins him on his side of the bench. “I mean it.” He still won’t fully look at her, but she can see his eyes glistening. She’s only ever seen Murphy cry once – when she told him she was going up to space to die. Thinking back to that time six years ago, she attempts a jab. “If you were, we would’ve left you behind and had more oxygen for the rest of us.”

               He scoffs, blinking quickly. A half smile crosses his face, and it’s enough to make her smile, too. “Yeah, that really was your big mistake.”

               Raven puts her hand on his leg. “See? I don’t care what your head tells you. There are six of us on this ship who love you and care about you. Tell your head to shove that worthless lie up its ass.”

               Murphy’s hand moves to take hers from his thigh, his fingers gentle and soft as his hands encapsulate one of hers and holds it like a baby bird. She’s never imagined Murphy could be _soft_. His voice is equally kind and quiet. “Thanks.”

               Raven holds out her arms. “Bring it in.”

               He rolls his eyes at her.

               “Come on,” she nudges. “There’s no one in here. It won’t damage your reputation as the Ring’s royal bastard.”

               He looks at her from the side for a moment, hesitating, before giving in and wrapping his arms around her. He leans his weight into her, pressing his cheek against the side of her face. She didn’t expect him to give in so easily, but he and Emori broke up three months ago, and he’s had almost no human contact since, and certainly no physical contact. Raven closes her eyes, smiling softly. Everyone needs someone. Everyone needs to be touched, loved, spoken to.

               “As far as the rest of Spacekru is concerned, this isn’t happening,” he mumbles into her shoulder.

               Raven hugs him tighter. She has to admit, she rarely gets this kind of time for affection like this, and it’s been so long since she’s been held, she’s almost forgot how nice it feels. “Whatever you say, Murphy.”

               Had anyone been watching, the hug would’ve lasted an uncomfortably long amount of time. But they were both so caught up in the feeling of having someone to hold and someone to hold them that it didn’t matter. When they finally broke apart, Raven scooted one bench over to his, making the bench wide enough for her to sit beside Murphy, who had wedged himself in the corner between a cabinet and the wall. She tucked herself into his shoulder and laid her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her without thought and held her close.

               “I thought I was doing that for you, but I didn’t realize how starved I was for affection, too.”

               Murphy looks down at her, a glimmer in his eye she’s not sure she’s seen before. “Oh, you call that affection?” His fingers skim her chin slowly, his eyes fixated on her lips.

               Raven looks up at him, suddenly hoping with everything in her he’ll kiss her. “I get the sense you could do better.”

               He guides her chin up to his, gentle as a feather. “Oh, I could do better.”

               His lips touch hers softly – so softly her entire body hurts.

               “How was that?” he asks, his trademark smirk showing.

               “That sucked,” Raven says, a little breathless. She moves herself to straddle his hips, resting herself on his thighs. Her hands on his chest, she asks, “Why don’t you try again?”

               Murphy’s hand cradles the back of her head, sucking gently on her bottom lip, taking his sweet time, as though the entire world can wait for them. Her fingers nervously reach out and caress the sides of his face. A hand finds it's way to the small of her back and she’s absolutely kicking herself for not letting this happen sooner.

               She’s had a thousand fierce, fervent, racing kisses. The last person to kiss her like this – slowly, sweetly – had to have been. . . Finn. It feels like ages ago.

               The ship’s automated computer voice announces that the storm is over and the light above the door changes from red to green. She sighs, secretly wishing the storm would’ve lasted longer. “Is that the end of this?”

               Murphy’s fingers twist a piece of her hair absentmindedly. “Only if you want it to be. Or you could,” he shrugs. "I don't know. Spend more time on my half of the Ring.”

               “Or you could spend more time on my half.”

               “Come on now,” Murphy says, tugging at her hair slightly. “I think you owe me for kissing you like that.”

               “I owe you?” Raven scoffs.

               “I’m a reasonable man. An eye for an eye,” he kisses her briefly. “A kiss for a kiss.”

               Raven can’t deny she wants more of this. More touch, more affection, more Murphy – as insane as that sounds. But she’s still going to make him work for it. Raven pretends to check her mental calendar, as though she really has somewhere more important to be. “You might want to hang out by that window later this evening. I might just happen to be working on repairs on that side of Ring after Emori goes to bed.”

               “Mhm,” Murphy nods. “I might just need to be a little destructive every night then.”

               Raven weighs the proposition. “Well, I can’t just let the ship fall apart, now can I?”


End file.
